


Follower of death

by Tunder28



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Insane, F/M, Gen, M/M, Supernatural/strange element, magic and myths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tunder28/pseuds/Tunder28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the bow string taut and arrow level, he looked down the length at the new face. The man smiled plainly at him, comply unarmed and casual. </p><p>“I know what you are Mr Barton” </p><p>“Shouldn’t that sentence go more like, I know ‘who’ you are?”</p><p>Clint let his eyes shift just a fraction. A glimpse of his truer self. No human could identify Other so easily, so this guy mustn’t be human. </p><p>Mr casual didn’t seem different, just unassuming casual workaholic suit...who titled his head a fraction, and soon all that changed.</p><p>His eyes-burning, melting inside his head- he had to make it stop. With a last tug, he heard his calling...the arrow set free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/11611) by sexyspork. 



Chapter 1

“Nat, are you sure?”

Clint looked across at her, easily making out her face in the strips of moon light peeking past the clouds.

“Yes”

Bushes rattling behind them, signalled the urgency to what needed to be done. Natasha’s head turned at the noise, no more than a few inches, but it was enough. 

“Now get ready”

He nodded his head and shed off his jacket. He needed room for this. He also needed a bit more time, but if need be, Natasha would handle matters, as she often did.

The moon finally burst forth, lighting the field up in her full grace tonight, bathing the field and lighting up every hole and twisted valley. She was full to the brim, leaving an almost heated cloak over fields as she light up the night as her own personal torch... and he felt it. The quivering in the air of things come to life under her spell. 

The bushes weren’t so silent anymore, now filled with vicious snarls and deep rage building in large drum chests. The tree branches swayed and reached around to snag at shadows that darted into their depths and the cracks of rabbit holes. 

Letting the heat soak into him...turn inwards, towards the centre...where the darkness lay. 

He felt it....the pressure, the burning-harder and brighter, till all he felt was its sudden loss and the coldness wash in. It spread like a spear through him, wavering his form on this realm for only a second. It was enough for now. Too much pull and he might even put Natasha in danger.   
She clung so rightly to death that she could not resist. 

She yearned for it always, yet out of reach forever. 

Death and her had been old friends once, until she had been turned away from him. Now....they wandered. Once lost and all, but death came to all it was said, and she waited for him always. And Clint watched. 

Her soul outreaching to his now changing essence, forcing him to push the temptation away. 

Necromancers.... always hunting for that perfect placid lake of silence that would be their final resting place for eternity. Only death and his wraiths could give that, but not yet. He wasn’t willing enough to do that to her. Death had left her, but Clint would try to hang on and bring her goal closer.

It wasn’t every day he got his ass kicked by a red haired necromancer, but it was a day he remembered. She’d appeared harmless to him at first, a soul to bear and a soul to take. He’d tried and been bested. Closer to evenly matched, it seemed that had been enough for her to spare him.   
Now though, he pulled on the darkness, and from every corner and hole, it bled into him. The noises and sounds meant nothing to him now. Just flashes of heat and brief colour as he took to his half form. Wrapping a ragged purple cloth around his neck from the darkness that draped down to cover his back, he became the wraith again. An undead bow in hand and equipped with surreal eyes to find those most deserving of his arrow. A slight shimmer to his body overtook, that made his movements like smoke, tumbling on the wind as he shot and twisted, artful in his form of death.

The hunt was on.

The first howl that ripped through the air was dealt the first arrow. Silences with a flick of his bow before its brothers rose up to make a meal of the two. Too bad they had gone up against deaths spawn of a son and its awaiting mistress.   
All ran from death....all claimed to have glory or justice over it. All fell before it. 

Clint and Natasha, true harbingers of its cause, would deal it under the fullness of that nights moon. The were’s should have known not to track them so far out of their territory. A quick trip through the edge of their territory seemed I’ll advised. Natasha had hunted down one of the many names on her list, her own reasons and some good pay. Clint wasn’t so sure it was worth it if it was going to be one of the bloodshed nights.   
He didn’t have expressions in this form, but if he did, he would arch an eye brow at her. She merely shrugged as if she had already known his response. It was still her fault, but she didn’t apologies. She flicked her wrist, and a long wooden staff tipped sharp at the end flickered up out the ground, into her grip and impaling the were too stupid to keep its distance. 

The pack were not happy for already losing two of their own. Too full of rage and arrogance, thinking their number meant victory as it had always done. 

They clearly had not meet Clint and Tasha before.

Looks like it was going to be one of those nights after all.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
“What happened” Fury asked, chair turned away from Coulson, viewing a bundle of computer screens with data running down.  
“We don’t know sir. Unknown body count. Readings are struggling to pick up any substance or mass in the area. One confirmed alive but the readings can’t be trusted so early on in this stage. We need a plan, this is getting out of hand. Are you sure-“

“I know. Carry on. I’ll inform you of my decision when I make it”

“Yes sir” A pause

“Anything else” Fury sounded somewhat impatient at the lack of noise from the door. A small twitch of an eye brow from Coulson seemed explanation enough. 

“Very well. Go to the scene, see what you can pick up. Information gathering only. No strays this time”

A small smirk settled a briefly on coulsons lips but he made no move to leave just yet. 

“Hill seems to be settling well...productive even.”

“Yeah, so close to all this chaos....I have no doubt. Now go already”. Fury gave a light grunt and the door gave only a puff of air as it closed behind Coulson. 

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“What now?”

Natasha ignored him. Glared down and raiding the bodies for their money and valuables, which was next to none. Were’s tended not to be able to carry much over into their other form. A shirt and pants, maybe a necklace or shoe. Everything else was crushed under the power of the change. 

He’d retrieved all his arrows, rubbing them clean till they could find a small river to wash them in. Now, they looked normal, not like bone and ash on the wind. They were just gleaming thin wood with metal. 

He jammed them back into his quiver and stood. They were done here. Hopefully next time would go better. Next time.....he hated this.   
Watching Natasha go from one to the other, smearing each forehead with her bloody thumb. She did her work quickly, confident in her skills. She knew they needed to be moving along, no doubt their little fight had drawn attention. Bu whoever came after, well they would get a nasty and lethal surprise. 

Nodding she was done, she dragged up her staff and let him lead the way, his eyes quickly picking a path through the darkening night. The moon wouldn’t be lending them her grace any longer tonight.  
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The soil was still moist yet it hadn’t been raining for days. No, only the blood of the fallen could have made it so soft underfoot. Coulson ignored it, moving through the litter of dead werewolf bodies, identifying and categorizing the loss total and who had fallen. Other packs would not like this. A clean up would need to come in and they would need to cross their fingers that no distant cousins of the pack came knocking. 

A noise, like a twig slowly breaking rose a few feet behind. This was not looking to be a quite trip. He kept his back turned, knowing what was happening behind him and making no move to halt it. The magic had already been woven and now would play out until there was none left. The amount of noise he could hear behind him meant whoever had risen the beasts would have had a good portion of power. No everyday necro would have that potential. 

Such powerful spells were draining however. If he could deal with this new mess and hurry he could catch up to who had wiped out the small pack. While he was thinking it over, one by one, each were started to twitch. Arms spasmed and legs pulled as the beasts rose up onto all fours, gaping holes and arrow protruding from eyes, snapping and snarling. 

Back from the dead. 

Coulson spared them a brief glance, slightly annoyed for the halt in his progress. It wasn’t often he had the opportunity to chase, and not often he indulged in it. Oh well. The beasts were already dead and he would just include this new mishap into his report.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Natasha was openly glaring as if she could shorten the distance to the car they had snatched up in their rush to get to the mark. It was still a mile or two out. 

Clint tightened his hold on her arm and dragged her onwards, ignoring her stumbling along and letting him carry her. She had overdone it with the revival. Too many, too soon and just too much everything. But it was her choice and clint wasn’t about to start questioning her. At least as long as she was in a foul mood and eager to deal out pain. 

Pain and him had seen each other a lot over the years. Nothing new. She’d seen it, felt it, given it....taken it. Those were the times that made that small heat inside him flare. In this world where everything was tainted, with greedy hands and fingers ready to snatch everything away, mercy never much presented itself. 

He felt a twist on the wind that flowed back the way they had come. Nothing unusual at first, but it was odd with the night so cold and no wind to sway the trees. 

He didn’t need to turn to her, feeling the tension in her arm as she pushed on faster. They needed to get some distance on whoever was following. She needed her strength back but wouldn’t allow him to fight or die protecting her.

Stubborn necro

No. Just stubborn Natasha.

All stayed quiet. Nothing came rushing up behind them or else he’d have an arrow imbedded in its eye before it came within reaching distance. The car when they found it, didn’t seem apt for usage. 

Natasha huffed, looking across at him and out of breath. Her eyes were searching and he didn’t like it. He could read the ‘what now’ in them and it made him kick the shredded tires that had once been their getaway car. Now it held mangled metal and ripped rubber wheels, nothing they could use.

Finally she nodded. 

“Ok. I have an idea”

No. No no no no!. She never said that unless she was trying to word it on how to convince him to go along with a stupid plan. 

“No. Trust me. I have an idea”

He tried to fight it, really. But she was asking for trust, and she’d had it the moment he saw her eyes, the broken pieces of a soul and her unbreakable drive for her end goal. He’d had that once. Or still.

Sadly, he couldn’t tell anymore.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

They didn’t really stand a chance. Finally finished with the were’s, coulson brushed off the fur clinging to his shoulder in a clump and assumed his natural walking pace. The one who had done this wouldn’t get far in their state. 

Either they were more powerful than he thought and had simply slipped through the seams and away into nothingness, or they were struggling to escape. He was intent on the latter. All other known necromancers with the level of skill required had been crossed off the list. All were elsewhere and busy on other projects.

He gave the moon a quirk of his lips and she swing around a cloud, giving him the pathway forwards. He would have to thank her later for her guidance. Now he had a job to do. 

No direct orders on how to fulfil the task but he had done this before. Alone, you had only yourself to count on and decide what to do. The court wouldn’t be happy with him having such a free leash, but they’d have to take that up with fury. For now he was going to proceed and gather intel who the culprit could be. 

So far he knew it was not just one. No necromancer he knew of used arrows, undead archers or not. No. This had the touch of someone else. Not a great combination in his mind. More trouble and work for himself in the end. But, gather and ‘confirm’ data was a loose term and he would use the freedom gladly. It wasn’t often he had a chase.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“No”

“(sigh) Barton-“

“I said no. You have no idea who it is, what they want! They could kill you”

Natasha was now giving him death glare no.2. It was highly effective in clamping his mouth shut. 

“No one will get to kill me until I say so. Now. That’s the plan. Just do your part....for me”

He ground his teeth at her. It was a stupid plan and she knew it. Was even using his emotions against him now when they were so flexible after the shift. Damn her for knowing how emotionally damaged he was....how attached he’d grown of her. And she too had unwillingly let him in some. He didn’t want to lose her so quickly on a hunch.

But that was the plan. The only one. 

“Ok. I’ll get ready and be in position for when you need me. You just-you know. Make the call”

This brought a smirk to her lips and he slipped away, back towards the darkness. It was a one person trip always. A lonely one. 

“See you around Barton”

He nodded and twisted back into the shadow of the car, falling down and into the cloak of blackness. He fell and slowly gathered it round him, holding him while he waited. He needed the direction from her before he could pinpoint where he needed to go. So he floated in the black arms of the veiled world and waited.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha didn’t hear anything. No breath on the still air or swish of cloth, but she knew. Turning around and pointing her staff with no real intent, she pinpointed him perfectly.

Closer than she had perceived....and nothing what she expected.

“Hello Miss Romanoff. I must say I wasn’t expecting you to be behind this”

Natasha kept her silence, tracing her finger over a groove in her staff and sliding back a compartment that held arrow. This was really clints gig. She’d had it imbedded with little cost to the staff’s power. If she was ever without it, clint could easily use it as his chosen weapon. Amusingly it might give him a clear head start in misdirection if this played out well.

“To whom do I speak with now?” 

Coulson lips pulled at the corners, almost a smirk but not quite. He remembered a time when people still talked like that, long ago. Fond memories but always with a loss for an ending

“I work with ‘Shield’ Miss Romanoff. I believe you’ve heard of us”

She was good. Her only tell was the narrowing of her eyes, honing in on him. Instinct made him twist at the right moment, missing an arrow to the chest. Her hand hadn’t moved at all. Interesting. A necromancer who could wield her staff without movement. He’d have to point her out to fury when he got her back to the detention cells. 

“I see you’ve been busy collecting on your list. I’d like to discuss this without violence if we may?” 

Inside he already knew that she would retaliate with just that. Shame. He really hoped she was smarter next time they talked. But she had flare, more so than the stories told of her victories. Cold and ruthless. Yes he could see it. In her eyes and with a heavy aura around her that she carried like a weight. The burn of loss and the yearning to find again. 

Sighing, he stepped forward. He didn’t have a choice it seemed.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
The darkness was everything. 

Everywhere. 

It showed itself to him early, something that wasn’t the usual and made him more a freak to everyone else. It was home since his first breath inside his mother. It was there in her soul, behind his father’s eyes, deep inside barney’s tainted hate in later years.  
He closed those thoughts off. Best not to drag that down inside with him. It was already in his hind mind. But never visible within that black. He was free in the dark. Sometimes, he felt like he was flying in the dark, taking to the dark sky and swaying on the wind to meet the moon-

A swift tug notified him.

Natasha had fallen. 

For a moment, he wanted to leap right out of his place, jump to the light to help her. But he kept hold and stayed still. She had a plan. Most her plans worked, and when they didn’t, she made sure the failing would be painted in someone’s blood.

She was the black widow. She endured through all the world did to her...took from her. An apt name all through the years. She had once whispered her secret words to him, curled her head into the darkness of his shoulder, how it seemed fated for her to be. She had been born to become it. To bear the name.

He’d told her how full of crap that was.

It had earned him a bruise in the arm and small pleased smirk. 

He’d say it was worth it every time. 

Now all he had to do was wait for the signal and he’d know his destination. Get rid of some more hunters who had probably heard she was in the area and had come to collect her head and bounty. 

Stupid hunters.

The last few had been fun, watching her play with them. She’d gotten onto someone’s radar, much to her annoyance. So like a normal person...she had joined with 3 men, all unknowing it was her they were hunting. But it had been too late. And she had sent them back to butcher their small gathering of hunters. After she’d killed them of course. Why waste such a powerful necromancer ability. It immortalised her in enemies eyes. Made them scared of a widows dark touch. 

Send a dog to hunt her down, and she would send it back a hell hound, ripping its owners to shreds.

He could feel the signal now, coming stronger as she woke up. Her soul was calling and now he raced towards it through the blackness, passing other oddities and ignored them all. Nothing bothered him in his dark centre. 

With little will he pushed through, landing out into the night air and onto silent feet. It was like water she had posed once, seeing him revealed, swinging his bow up at her. That had been the first moment they’d met. Him hunting her. Stupid and young.

He slid into a corner, eyes rapidly trying to take everything in. 

Great just like Natasha to be grabbed by competent people. It had happened once before, a time when he had still be bruised and running from her. She had suddenly vanished for 2 months only to reappear banging on his door and demanding to be let in. 

Helping her heal up had proven difficult. She didn’t allow anyone to touch her unless she gave the word. It had been interesting and challenging to wrap her wounds to say the least. 

Now he was in a new challenging setting.

An army base of some kind with everyone wearing some formal suits. It appeared that the armed and driving force of people wore black and white, moving like ants and scurrying in and out the base. No apparent group stood out. Perfect camouflage. He was going to have some trouble. 

A few pilots in overalls but they were so few it would be impossible to disguise as one. He briefly thought about stealing a suit off one of the drones, but just thinking of wearing it was making him itch. No, he wouldn’t be able to pull it off. He’d walk too loosely and not like a stick.   
Snickering he started resigning himself to the dark. On infiltration jobs, he tried to keep a lid on his strangeness. No need shouting it everywhere. Now was going to have to be one of the times he used it. 

A small tug and his purple cloth came to him, long like a cloak to go around him. Slowly it ebbed into the shadows to make all blind to him. Here, he could pass through. Hopefully without touching anyone. He might be invisible to the eye, but one nudge and someone would know he was there. It was also draining if the moon wasn’t too happy and didn’t lend her light to him. 

He cast a sad look up at the cloud cover before moving through a high open vent. It stunk of smoke and oil, no doubt an outlet, but he could work with it. 

Sliding down was easy but messy. He wiped off as much crap as he could as he started his path, holding the call for his bow just at the edge of his mind. The vents seemed ideal. No cameras and most often no lasers or triggers. Big enough for him at least to make his way. Perfect.   
Following his beacon he make progress, passing a multitude of noises. From muttering guards to loud open areas with masses of people and even scientists talking how great they were for so on and so forth. Gods, whoever run the place needed to keep a lid on the scientists mouths, who knew who was listening in.

He had to go higher, then deeper and finally down. Far far down. 

He had a brief moment where the momentum would surely drag him down with gravities help before he felt level enough with the signal. Quick work with the grating and then a ceiling tile got him out onto an empty corridor. Finally. 

It was silent as the grave and hopefully if all went well, he’d be back in the vents on his way out to meet Natasha and leaving a scene of chaos behind. 

He snuck around for a bit with no one guarding the halls. Not too many cameras, easy to dodge around. Office rooms were everywhere, but he found his gem behind some double steel doors. Computer server for the floor. That should get some attention.


	4. Chapter 4

“Really Coulson. You think she’s the one?”

He didn’t need to respond. She already knew his answer. She was allowed to smirk and laugh, but questioning him so openly would not go well for her.

They were both second hands to fury. Her co-director, him, the man behind the plan. With them, fury was untouchable. Not that he wasn’t without his might. Hill may have a position at his side, but it was coulsons ears and eyes he leaned on.

Hill smirked again but let it go as the new cell mate was interviewed again by the psychologist. She was dancing around him with just her eyes and closed mouth. A twitch and the doctor was grabbing up his clipboard to flutter back. He was clever to be weary. 

“How longs he going to wait?”

Coulson didn’t turn. “Who are we to question the director....”

Nodding she ignored him as he left on silent feet. Glaring into the cell from the high reflective glass, she marvelled. The echo of fear and anticipation was floating up in lazy swirls, catching at her nose and making her blood warm. The doctor was back to questioning the widow and she was back to making him light on his feet and eager to run out the room. 

Hill didn’t move or show her thoughts. She could last a bit longer. Once it got a bit more heated she’d leave. No need burning the place down for a quick fix of chaos. 

Or maybe not. 

The lights gave a brief flicker as if called on by her thoughts before going out. She glared up at the ceiling and waited, but they remained off.   
‘Where was the backup power?’

The only warning that something from the cell was happening was the smell that suddenly rose and made her sway forwards. Chaos!   
It sprung up to her, fear and blood and terror in sharp bursts. 

The widow had bitten again. 

Gripping the metal bar had proven too eager as it melted to the floor in slow drops from her hands. She needed to deal with the widow and contain her until fury decided when he was going to spare a moment for a chat. 

Shaking her head to started to the door, ripping it open and startling the two guards outside. Another puff of fear wavered to her from them as she passed by ordering them to follow. She had plenty of rumours running around her heels, ones she did little to dismiss. 

They kept a healthy 3 feet away, giving her room to move and them time to scatter if she started getting hands on. With a brisk pace they reached the cell, the door and hanging off a hinge and the thick scent of blood in the air. If she lifted her nose should would easily be able to follow it.

The doctor was dead over the desk and papers, along with the two guards in the corner. 

With a flick of her hand the two following guards stepped forward, dealing a bullet to the heads of each dead victim. No need them getting back up to slow them down. 

With that done she swung back around with her guards, towards that dark scent on the air as it fled. The widow didn’t have very far to go. She was underground and there was only so many service corridors leading up. All heavily guarded. 

A necromancer without their staff was extremely weak. Some took to imbedding dead treasure in their bodies to ensure they weren’t unarmed but to Hill’s surprise the widow hadn’t. She’d come in unarmed. 

Stopped dead in her tracks, she felt it. A tingle along her neck, the hairs lifting. Something was deadly wrong with this. Unarmed. The widow. 

She was never unarmed. 

Cursing in three different tongue sent the guards another 2 feet away from her. Stupid. This was planned and they had walked her right into the base. Who knew why she wanted in since there was very little chance of getting out. 

They had a black widow crawling inside their walls.

Raising her phone she dialled a number she hoped she wouldn’t regret. 

“What!”

“Director, we have a problem”

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Clint’s stories had always held an element of similarity to them. Each horror or happy memory was a scene from a high perch. 

Whispers was how they spoke their secrets and it worked for them. Normal voices and words didn’t cut how deep they were imbedded into each of them. It was only in darkness with each other they let the fire in their stomach let out the smoky whispers. 

He hid up high to always be out of reach, to be safe. 

It was a trick she had come to know and learn. Now, it was useful as she crawled down the narrow shaft, sliding effortlessly away from the death scene behind. It always ended the same for her. 

He stayed high, away from it all. She wasn’t thinking about what the closed and confined underground base would feel like to him. Probably cut off. 

The vent nearest to her was warped as if it had been near extreme heat recently. It was her only warning and she took it. Kicking downwards she fell down through the metal, rushing down and away from the heat. She could hear it groaning as it too warped inwards, the heat molding it like butter. 

Landing she sprung the moment her foot touched down, bounding off a wall and dropping the first guard with a kick to the head. She was fluid as water, as Clint had shown her in how to bend and twist, snagging the knife from the guards hip and imbedding it into the head of the last one standing. 

Sharply she twisted down into a fall, feeling heat ripple past and over head. She had a moment to glance up and see the nightmare.   
The colour of the fire and fury could not be described, nor fully seen by the human eye. Natasha only had her instincts inside her that roared up and demanded she run- MOVE NOW. Rolling again she missed fire as it raced towards her. 

The smell of burned flesh hit her, scorching the guards body. She hardly registered it. It was a common smell she had come across in her many years. Swinging up and using the small corridor to her advantage she made her way towards the one responsible. She’d sensed her before, just on the ridges of her senses. 

The chaos demon...not many of those running around. Highly known for being hunted down due to their name and profession. Feeding off chaos. She’d only ever seen one when she had been a child, small and watching her village being burned down as an elderly woman laughed in the centre of it all. 

She had remembered the woman being burned at the stake. The whole village had been in uproar and had deemed her a witch. But she had been so much more. And everyone had died. Except Natasha. She’d hidden like a scared mouse under her mother who had been dead for a short time. 

Her first taste of death. 

But she remembered how calm she had been. Lying under the cold weight, breathing fast and irregular. She knew later it had been shock that had started it all. But her mother had risen, wobbling and gaping mouth as she ran at the demon. 

Terrified, Natasha had run on to her father. He had ended up the same, and she had raced away to each of her brothers and sisters, all small in body and all rose. Eventually, she’d been exhausted and had feel down into the mud. The demon had been ripped apart. 

She’d stayed in the mud for a long time with the smell of smoke in her lungs.

She had learned from that day on. Known and seen death for what it had become for her.

She felt effortless, bouncing from wall to wall and ensuring she lost no momentum as she grew closer to the demon. Graceful and deadly she got close enough as the demon froze, fire leaving it hands as the woman stuttered back in shock. Not so old as the last, but more experienced.   
She dove forwards, ready to shove the knife she’d stolen off the guard into the demons throat. She didn’t even try to defend herself. Just stood back in shock, almost frozen in fear-

She couldn’t move....

And it was there. Finally. The darkness was back.

It roared so loud inside her head started to swim, causing her to waver and catch herself. Crawling like insects inside her chest, igniting fear and hate and love that racing past her ribs and into her heart. Deep into her heart, plunging in and making the black pour out.   
Here, she finally was.


	5. To find a hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. BUT OMG READ THIS-so pissed
> 
> (FUCKKKSSSSAKKKKEEE)  
> My computer crashed and lost 3!!!!! NEW CHAPTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!. So rewriting

Clint felt the gap appear in his mind as the mouth of darkness opened and snatched her away. She was gone!

Not even death could take her from him. He’d told her, promised he would swim through the well of souls to stay with her. He pressed against the veil but didn’t feel her soul calling in its depths. _What the hell-_

Something had happened.

He had his warning, and a second was a small mercy from the moon. She was being kind to him tonight. The sound of expensive shoes creaked a few feet away, far too close for his liking. It was his last warning.

His bow was up in a flash, aiming into the face of.....a random guy.

Clint cocked his head to the side, taking all of him in with one hard look. He didn’t feel anything wavering off the guy, no dark aura or killer intent that usually happened when clint got himself in trouble. No, the guy looked like he was a fancy assistant, just stepping out the office and run into trouble.

With an arched brow Mr. random became Mr. casual, strolling slowly forwards, unhindered or bothered by the arrow aimed at his left eye. Way to make him feel like a 5 year old with a toy boy.

Point to the new guy for gall.

But wait-there!

She was back again, slowing swimming back into place inside his mind. Whatever had happened to block her was gone. Good. He didn’t like not having her at his back. Hopefully this stupid plan wouldn’t last much longer.  

With the bow string taut he looked down the length at the new face. The man smiled plainly at him, completely unarmed and casual.

“I know what you are Mr Barton”

“Shouldn’t that sentence go more like, I know ‘who’ you are?”

Clint let his eyes shift just a fraction. A glimpse of his truer self. No human could identify Other so easily, so this guy mustn’t be human.

Mr casual didn’t seem different, just unassuming casual workaholic suit...who titled his head a fraction, and soon all that changed.

His eyes-burning, melting inside his head- he had to make it stop. With a last tug, he heard his calling...the arrow set free.

Barrelling backwards down the corridor, he fell into what he hoped was the restroom or this could get awkward. Thankfully he managed to splash water into his eyes, letting the blur slowly abate back and become clear again. Thank the gods.

His brain chose to highlight the crunching noise outside, like something transforming. Ok, plan B- GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE. Slamming into a high wall vent, he pried it open, letting it swing as he threw himself into its confines as the door was ripped off its hinges. No thank you he was moving on.

Pelting down the vents and ignoring the noise he was no doubt making, he tried to navigate to a more secluded area that would allow him some room to breathe for a few seconds. Whatever that guy was, it had taken an arrow-possibly to the eye and had shrugged it off within a few seconds. He did not want to deal with that at the moment.

He caught himself from a short fall, knocked his head lightly against a vent and cursed himself, Natasha and everything in existence. He wasn’t at his best making plans on the fly. That was Natasha’s job- but noooo she had to go get captured and play out her own little plan.

Growling he pushed on, hoping he’d reached a quiet floor and untangle his legs. He didn’t hear any noise behind him so he hoped that his new friend was taking the long way round. He’d been part way through setting up the small charge to take out the lights and doors before Natasha had vanished. Hopefully he’d done enough work for the charges to respond from however far away he was.

Rolling out on silent feet, he touched down to solid concrete floor.

Funny, he could have sworn he’d been in offices a floor up. This new floor looked a lot more serious. Long corridors with panelled off areas that had card readers and fingerprint scanners, Great. 

He moved on, bow up and arrow notched. He wouldn’t be left to wander for very long now they knew who else they were looking for. Spotting a fire extinguisher he grabbed it up. He’d done this trick once or twice when some of his past employers had thrown him into a secure room when he’d badmouthed too much. Not a fun idea and he’d shown his displeasure personally.

Wielding it like a club, he bashed in the side of the door frame where the handle was nearest to the card reader, grinning when the door clicked open. Thank you Mr. malfunction by damage.

Stepping back he replaced the fire extinguisher in its usual place and dragged himself back up into the vent and out of sight. Now all he had to do was wait and hope.

The luck of the light was on his side, as a random agent rounded the corner 2 minutes later, eyes glued to the now open door and angling himself to secure it. He alerted his position sadly over his radio ‘that would come in handy’ before kicking in the door, rushing the room in hopes of catching the trespasser off guard. Too bad, he made enough noise to cover clint dropping down behind him.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 “Sir, sub floor 2”

Coulson nodded to the responding agent, picking up his pace as he dusting off his jacket, joining the rest of the agents in the lift. Discretely he settled his hands back to his sides, not letting them twitch with how eager he was to catch up. That shot had hurt.

Nothing showed of the damage Barton had done to his eye, but still, it had been so long since someone had caught him off guard. He hadn’t thought he would shoot in such a small and confined corridor. His own fault really when he had pressed a desperate individual. Fear and instincts can make a person do stupid things.

Now the hawk was fleeing with little to no room to fly.

The doors opened with a ding, provoking the agents to draw their weapons. Coulson could already see the tip end of shoes peeking out an open door.

 “-Man down!” One of the agents shouted, the surrounding agents tensing in anticipation. Coulson let a small annoyed sigh out through his nose.

Raising his hand the surrounding agents went silent, waiting on command. Nodding he signalled to spread out and search the corridor. He had an idea of where the hawk would have flown off to, but he needed his men for a better distraction.

As the agents stormed around in their search, Coulson swiped his card, opening a door and slid out of view and into the darkness. Pressing back into a corner and wedging himself neatly next a filing cabinet (why did they still have them anymore?!) and waited. He’d left the door a touch open, portraying it as a clumsy agent leaving it open to search rooms quicker. He might end up just giving one of his own agents a heart attack, but oh well. If they fainted at the sight of him in a dark room then....well, it was typical of lower level agents to do that. Perhaps he should start leaving his light on in his office more often. The complaints from HR were enough of a headache.

No use weeding out the fainters when they already have so little staff.

The door clicked and shut quietly. Finally the hawk had landed.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Well, he’d have to thank the stupid agent for being so dumb and leaving a door open for him. Some of the others had left one or two open as well, but this was closest and had one of those locks. Peaking in, he saw another vent he could use to get out quick if he had to. No use trapping himself.

Stepping in, he pushed the door shut and reached out mentally for Natasha. Sadly, he brushed up against something else...kinda familiar and dark-

A tingling sensation tapped on his neck, pinching a nerve and suddenly, his legs decided to made like jelly and drop his heavy ass to the floor. He crashed hard, surely making enough noise that the trailing agents would hear.

But fuck it. He was too busy staring up at Mr smug fucking casual.

He wanted to give himself a small pat on the back though, that small smirk on the guy’s lips was for him. Guy looked so rigid he might snap if you tried to bend him the wrong way...no wait, bad thought. This guy snapping might wipe out a base of men.

He grunted, trying to push as much anger into his glare as he could while flopping around, but all the guy did was pull his wrist up to his mouth and speak into his sleeve. Oh, a wrist com...snazzy.

Whatever the guy had done, his legs wouldn’t work....or his arms. What had he done!

All clint could do was grunt and groan as the agents scraped his ass off the floor, dragging him along to wherever the hell they were taking him. A cell no doubt. Damn Natasha and her plans. He’d had worse ideas in the past and the outcome hadn’t been this bad.

Ok maybe that one time- wow his eyes were going funny. That guy had some touch....


	6. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> been a while. Gonna drop some more of this out while in the mood.

“Trying to get to Miss Romanoff, Mr Barton?” Coulson rounded the table, lowering the thin folder in his hands onto the table. “She’s being held in one of the securest cells we have in this facility. There is no breaking in or out”

It said a lot about a man when shield had so little on him. And not all of it good.

“I understand your need and dedication to her but you need to now understand this. Neither of you are getting out of here. If you cooperate, then we can talk about other options. You both possess high skill sets of survival and adaption....that’s useful”

“Go fuck yourself suit. I only work with the widow and you ain’t bringing me anything I ain’t seen before” clint huffed in annoyance, letting the cuffs jingle.

“We aren’t the bad guys here, Mr Barton. But, the ones hunting you are. Now, we are in a position to protect you-“

A small twitch of clints lips stopped him in his tracks. This wasn’t going to work. He needed something more to hold against Barton, behold him to shield. Romanoff wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t have his leverage...yet.

Clint tilted back on his chair to show his boredom, letting his eyes scope out the room. Bland and boring, also with no obvious escape. Big glass mirror with a faint trace of 2 entities on the other side. Thick locked door and sturdy chair he was now handcuffed to. If worst came to it, he could use the chair that he was stuck to and beat in a few heads before his own got the same dealt to it. A few twirls with the dancers at the circus showed him how lethal a spin could make any object.

Coulsons lips twitched as if he could sense the trail of thought. Clint hoped not. The guy was scary enough without the added thought of being a telepath. Barn- No he was not thinking that.

“So, gonna torture me for a bit just for the hell of it?”

Coulson settled back, giving him a bland look. It was odd, like he was looking past a thin veil and only seeing the edges of what he wanted. “No, I believe you might get some enjoyment out of that”

Was that humour!-and a small smirk. Clint allowed some sass to blend into his voice “Spoil sport”.

It didn’t matter what they intended to do. Nat had a plan and she promised it was big and important so he would sit back and play through it. She’d never let him down, not like the others, not even close.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, Miss Romanoff. You and your hawk aren’t leaving this base. You’ll both be detained till your gray in the hair and too withered to speak. Now tell me again what you thinks gonna happen here” Fury had been here too long with the widow. Her cold stare was familiar and rubbed him the wrong way. Pressing down his knuckles to the table, he stemmed off his temper before anything could leak out.

She didn’t move or jolt around to try and escape, just retold the tale as if to drill it into their heads.

“What will happen is-Your ‘base’ is going to be attack. Destroyed even, if you don’t respond. The thing that is hunting us... its special. I’ve had dealings with it in the past, and believe me. Its enough to make me run...and I don’t often do that. So, you have a few choices. Which one you pick is up to you. In some I die, in most, everyone else does....”

She glared up at fury, no fear in her eyes, just intent. Dammed but he was already starting to like her. She was top shield material if they could get her to turn. Dragging her hawk along wouldn’t be too bad either. He’d seen some of his shots and counted himself lucky to do so. Not everyone got a look at the hawk, especially if you were his target.

He let the silence gather in the room, weighing down the odds before he stood.

“....Hill, get me my weapon”

If Romanoff was smirking when he left her in her new and secure room, he didn’t acknowledge. No need giving her anything more to smile about.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Coulson pushed open the door, not showing his surprise at clint perching on his chair, the cuffs gone and him waiting comfortably. Impressive and must have hurt to slip iron lined cuffs, especially ones with unbreakable ruins inset into them.

“So, what’re we gonna talk about today suit? Maybe some juicy gossip about what the other agents think on your special treatment of me”. Clint spoke almost playfully and seductive. “Come on don’t be shy, I know I’m your favourite prisoner” Coulson ignored him, setting down some items.

A cassette player was placed onto the table. Coulson popped in a tape and stood back, guarding the door for safety measures. When barton stayed silent and raised an eyebrow as to what Coulson wanted, he pressed play.

“My name is Natasha Romanoff, and i have a message for you-“

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooo

“Ok is this really necessary!” Clint shouted as the door slammed shut. Coulson and a few guards had ‘escorted’ him down into some sci-fi holding cells. At first it appeared like four pillars with a data pad inset into one. But one press of the button had clint trapped inside four wavering walls.

The slight hum from them left him no doubt how painful it would be to touch.

“Yeah they do tend to do that” a voice said off to the side.

A look around revealed more people in similar states as him, another being-

“Nat!”

She nodded to him, hands retrained behind her back. These guys were clever for not letting her loose.

“What happened? is everything-“

“Its fine Hawkeye. Everything’s going to plan...”

She sounded serious, eyes hard and posture tight like she was waiting for something to come barrelling through the doors any minute.

Clint looked back at his new talking friend. The guy wasn’t much to look at. Seriously. He was barely dressed, ragged pants hanging off his shallow hips and dirty legs. The guy looked half starved, but he wasn’t out of the game yet by anyone’s standards. The ruins carved or tattooed all over him said enough.

A witch doctor...here?

“Yeah, sorry bout the ruins. Didn’t have much of a choice at the time...” the guy trailed off, pushing messy black hair out of his face and correcting his bent glasses. He looked barely contained, his cell smaller than the rest that forced him to tuck in his arms when turning.

His eyes were strange and tinted...green. They were strong and hard for such a soft voice and posture. Whatever he wasn’t, he was no friendly giant....

The guy smiled, saddened in some way. “Guess you’re here to join the party as well. Although i will say, some of the more permanent ‘guests’ have a better reason for being here”. One look around revealed why. Mutant werewolves were encaged in quite a few cells, their mangled bodies twitching for some release that they would never get.

Others were more subtle.

An octo breed was waving his 8 arms about in agitation, sitting down at the base of his cell and clipping the edges to find a weakness. All he got was burned.

Vampires, goblins, elves, dwarf...all of them looking eager to kill each other and anyone they could.

Great, just perfect.

“Now what?” Clint asked Nat, who was standing still, staring at the door. It was beginning to unnerve him. What did she know that he didn’t?

“We wait...”

“For what?” Their new friend asked, picking up on the unease.  

“Company”


End file.
